


Too Dull of a Knife

by achievement_huntresss



Series: Flan's MH/CL44 fics [7]
Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Could be platonic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Or not, Post-Canon, Roommates, Self-Harm, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:35:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievement_huntresss/pseuds/achievement_huntresss
Summary: TW: Self HarmAfter everything that went down, several months of hospital stays, even longer months of getting Alex and Brian the help they need, Jay fell back into some... Less than great habits from his teenage years.As of today, he's two weeks clean. Unfortunately, it's harder than he thought to stay that way.
Relationships: Alex Kralie/Jay Merrick
Series: Flan's MH/CL44 fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1187675
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Too Dull of a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! This is a vent fic I am dedicating to my friend C4ke. They're having a bit of a hard time, and I wanted to write something for them. 
> 
> This work could be triggering if you have had thoughts of self harm, or have self-harmed in the past! Please take all necessary precautions and even consider skipping this if you need to. I won't mind!
> 
> Title from Bullet by Hollywood Undead!
> 
> Be safe & enjoy my loves!

Jay glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He felt so stupid, not for the first time. Tired eyes stared back at him, somehow more gaunt than usual. He'd really been trying to eat and sleep more, but despite Jessica and Tim's mother-henning, sleep was more of a pipe dream these days. He'd close his eyes and immediately be met with horrifying dreams, nightmares that were just a touch too close to his reality, and then he'd just sit up in his tiny attic room in the house he, Alex, and Jessica rented until the sun rose. He felt nothing but guilt, he had caused everyone to be dragged into this mess in the first place, the reason that they all had to move far away from Alabama.

He spits into the sink. It's clear, but a crazy part of his brain wishes there was blood in it. Anything to show that he's more than the walking corpse he feels he is. He shakes his head and runs the water to clean the sink, running his hands through his short hair. 

Maybe he should be grateful, grateful that Alex had aimed the gun slightly too much to the left and Jay had been able to escape back to Tim. That they were able to escape and find Brian and get Alex out. Grateful that they found Jessica and all were able to get the pills they needed. Grateful they were able to leave Rosswood and the nightmares it held far behind. He really should feel grateful, and incredibly lucky, but all he felt was guilt. And disgust. Why couldn't he have just left everything alone? Ditched the tapes while he was ahead and not get everyone into the problems he more or less caused? The guilt burned him up inside, especially when he saw his friends take their pills, Brian in his wheelchair from his fall, Alex's blank expression whenever anyone asked him about Amy or Seth.

God. Alex. Jay turns the water off and runs his hands over his face. He really fucked up his best friend's life, huh? The logical part of him knew that it wasn't _all_ his fault, but the guilt part of his brain was much louder. The past year and half had just contributed to his self hatred. Maybe living with the guy who wanted to shoot him wasn't the best idea, but Jay wanted to help Alex where he could. He wanted Alex to see him as a friend, and to know that Jay really didn't blame him for anything. 

A darker part of Jay sort of wanted Alex to point the gun at him again, and not miss this time.

Jay shook his head, avoiding his reflection. He took his regular dose from his pill bottle, and swallowed it dry. He could almost hear Brian's snarky comment at how he was gonna burn the inside of his throat, but he ignored it. He wondered what Brian and Tim were up to today. Part of him wanted to call them, drive over to their shared apartment and be with other people instead of his own head, but he suddenly felt really really tired. He turned the light off in the bathroom and walked down the hall to the tiny staircase to his attic room. Jessica had claimed the basement of the house, with easy access to the garage so she could go to work at her odd hours without waking up him or Alex. Alex had claimed the only true bedroom, and Jay took the attic. Maybe it wasn't helping, a dark lonely room where he could lay in bed all day without being disturbed unless Jessica called him for dinner on the days she got off early. But it was an honest to god bedroom, and not a hotel, so he took it. He worked online, editing commercials or short videos for local businesses and made pretty good money from it. Alex worked in a news studio in the next town over, and Jessica was a delivery woman. They all held odd hours, so it was more or less like Jay lived alone in his little attic room. The solitariness was nice, but it gave way to a lot of... bad decisions.

After everything that went down, several months of hospital stays, even longer months of getting Alex and Brian the help they need, Jay fell back into some... Less than great habits from his teenage years. Tim had returned the knife he took from Jay when he was in a bad headspace, and Jay had really debated telling Tim to take it and throw it away somewhere he'd never be able to find it, but silently took the knife anyways. It had sat in a box under his bed in the attic room for a few weeks before Jay had taken it out and laid it on the desk. He'd weighed the pros and cons, before thinking 'Fuck it' and pulled his sweats down. Old scars already littered his thighs, what would a few new ones hurt? From that moment on, everytime he got in _that_ headspace, he'd slowly pull the blade across his pale skin and watch as the blood beaded up and trickled down. IT hurt, but at least it was a feeling. Something he could control. He'd watch the blood for a while, before cleaning it up and wrapping it with clean bandages he always kept in his backpack out of habit. Then back into the box the knife would go.

Of course, Alex and Jessica found out. Alex had known Jay for years, and knew his tells well. Jessica was just really observant. Alex all but yelled at him when he saw the edges of the bandages under his boxers one morning, and Jessica had just looked at him sadly. That made him feel even more guilty, and he'd put the box up on the top shelf of the closet. The next time Tim and Brian had swung by the house for dinner, Tim had given him a sad look, similar to Jessica, and Brian cheerfully dumped a CVS bag of wound cleaning supplies on his lap. Jay had glared at his laughing friend, but got the hint. _Either stop, or be safer than you're being, idiot._

As of today, he's two weeks clean. Unfortunately, it's harder than he thought to stay that way.

Now in the present, Jay finds he's too exhausted to climb the stairs to the attic. He drags his feet instead past the stairs and Alex's bedroom door to the living room. He flops onto the couch and lays on his back, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Jessica was at work until 10 tonight, and he had no idea where Alex had gone to. He thinks he'd mentioned running by the store Tim worked at after work today, but his brain is fuzzy. 

Jay runs his hands over his thighs for what feels like the millionth time today, boxers rucked up to his hips and fingertips trailing over old and new scars. He lingered over one, deep but only two weeks old and still pinkish-orange. Lately, he'd been spending every night like this, tracing every mark and scratching at them. They were so goddamn itchy - it's as if his body is begging him to do it again. His thoughts flash once again to the box on the shelf in his closet and he weighs the pros and cons. 

  * _Pros: the itching will stop and he'll be able to sleep_
  * _Cons: he has to climb the stairs to the attic to reach the box; he'll have to wear sweatpants in July, and Alex knows him too well and knows what sweatpants in July is code for._



Jay huffs and rolls onto his side, glaring at the TV stand. His phone is in the front pocket of his hoodie, and he pulls it out and unlocks it. Maybe scrolling through Twitter will numb his brain long enough that he can pass out. He'd long since deleted the old Twitter, creating a sockpuppet account for memes and current events (mostly memes though). Scrolling the hell app would probably make him tired enough to sleep, or at least that's what he hopes.

Jay had been staring at his phone and mindlessly clawing at his thigh for maybe half an hour when the front door opened. It was probably Alex, but he wanted to make sure. Unfortunately, he didn't have the energy to look up. 

"Alex? 'S'at you?" His voice was hoarse and he winced. Hopefully Alex would brush it off as exhaustion.

"Yeah. Work went a little late. Swung by Tim's store and grabbed a few things for dinner this week."

Now that the potential threat proved to be his best friend, Jay relaxed against the couch cushions. "How's Tim?"

"He's good, wants to know if we're up for movie night next week." Alex sits on the chair next to the couch and begins untying his Converse. 

Jay mumbles a response, and curls up slightly in on himself. His thighs itched again, but he fought the urge to scratch at them. He wanted to draw as little attention as possible to the fact that he was a cutter around Alex because it was yet another thing that made him feel guilty. He didn't want Alex to feel bad for him, and if it made Alex feel bad then that meant that Jay made his best friend sad and he really couldn't handle that. He couldn't handle it back in college, and he really really couldn't deal with it now. He resigned himself to gritting his teeth and digging his nails into his palms instead. Alex had the remote in hand, turning on some old movie but out of the corner of his eye, he'd been watching Jay.

"What's up?"

"Nothin'. Just tired." Jay bluffed. _Oh fuck, Alex knows. Psychic bastard._

Alex gives him a **look**.

"I know something's up. You're a horrible actor." Alex says, turning the TV off and turning to look directly at him.

_'You're one to talk,'_ Jay wants to say. Instead, what comes out is 

"I want to get hit in the ribs with a baseball bat."

Alex raises an eyebrow. "If that's what you're into, I know a guy who can set you up."

"Of fucking course you know someone who'd be into beating the shit out of me," Jay laughs a little too earnestly.

"Well?" Alex picks up his phone from the coffee table and gestures with it like he's actually going to call up a sadist.

"Sounds kinda fun, but no. Not actually." Jay sits up and he feels like hiding behind the couch. Anything to get away from Alex's piercing gaze. He can physically feel his composure shift and he feels himself retreating back into himself. 

"I... I haven't done it in fourteen days," Jay gestures to his upper thighs, now on full display thanks to the fact that he's sitting up. "I really want to do it again. So fucking badly. I close my eyes and it's all I can think about. I miss it, Alex. I miss the hurt, the blood, the calm after I do it. I like the permanence of the scars. It- it feels kind of good." He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the top of the couch. "Oh god, Alex, I can't stop thinking about it. I don't wanna do it, because I don't want to get an infection or - or disappoint you guys and I really don't want to make _you_ upset but god it's so hard."

Alex just sits and listens. When Jay is done, he reaches out slowly, and puts a hand on his friend's shoulder. When Jay doesn't jerk away, Alex stands from the chair and settles onto the couch and pulls him in for a hug. Jay melts into the embrace, clutching at Alex's shirt and tucking his face into the crook of his neck.

"We just gotta find you somethin' else to do." Alex whispers into Jay's hair, running his fingers through it. It's so so so familiar to Jay, something Alex used to do and say to him whenever he came back to the dorm room and found Jay like this. Jay chokes on a sob, and clutches Alex tighter. With his other hand, Alex rubs his back gently and rocked him slightly for a couple minutes. When Jay's sobs had calmed down to a quiet whimper, Alex pulled away from him and cradled his face in his hands. He leaned forward and kissed the top of his forehead. 

"Hey," Alex says with a soft smile, "Things are gonna be okay. Trust me. Let's go get cleaned up and watch a movie, okay?"

Jay nods, and Alex helps him stand and walk to the bathroom. Alex more or less dumps him onto the toilet seat and runs a washcloth under the sink until it's damp and warm. Jay sits obediently as Alex cleans off his face like he's a sickly Victorian boy. Alex walks him back to the couch and bundles him in the softest blanket they have. He leaves to his room briefly, and comes back in his pajamas. He climbs into the bundle of blanket and Jay, reaching for the remote and turning the TV back on to the old movie he'd been watching earlier. 

Alex settles in close to Jay, wrapping an arm around him, occasionally rubbing at his shoulder. Jay, quiet for once in his life, curls towards his friend and rests his head against his chest. They stay like that for the whole movie and half of the next one only speaking when Jessica comes in and greets them both. She heads towards the basement, her dinner in hand and the two are left once again in silence save for the film. It's quiet and comforting and safe, and Jay can feel himself starting to fall asleep.

The credits for the second film roll on screen, and Jay looks up at Alex with heavy eyelids.

"I feel-" He cuts himself off with a yawn that nearly splits his head. "I feel better. Doesn't itch anymore. Thanks, Al." The old nickname easily rolls off his tongue, and before an equally wiped Alex can reply or even react, Jay shimmies up to eye level and leans forward to give him a soft kiss. Alex wraps his arms around Jay and they lay on the couch together, blissfully warm and safe wrapped in their blanket. They can't respond coherently to each other, just adjusting under the blanket, and eventually passing out, Jay on top of Alex, the two warm and safe at last.


End file.
